Evan and I try not to play the baby milestone comparison game. Evan's better at it than I am, but I feel like most days I hold my own. I don't intentionally brag to other toddler parents about what Nellie and Jack are doing (sorry relatives, friends without kids, friends with older kids...) and I try to brush it off and move on when other parents brag to me. It's exciting, I get it. Both J and N hit some milestones "early," and I was thrilled, even though deep down I knew it meant nothing. My mom once pointed out that most of these developmental milestones happen when, biologically, the baby is ready. "Kind of like getting your first period," she said. "Some girls get it early, some get it late, but it doesn't really mean much." Right. Then why are we parents are all acting like 11 year old boys, ogling at the first girl in class to wear a bra?
When J and N started pulling up and cruising earlier than average, I was convinced they were going to be early walkers, sort of like the Emmy of baby awards (talking is the Academy Award). But it didn't happen that way. I watched other babies start walking with confidence, and mine would take a few steps here and there and decide to crawl. I'm mortified to admit that it was mortifying for me. I felt guilty and jealous, and then guilty again for having these insane feelings. Now they're 15 months and walking like they've always known how, but they really didn't start to favor walking over crawling till about a month ago. There were many moments where I felt like Sam in Sixteen Candles, in a state of perpetual embarrassment. And it was all because of that insipid comparison game: I knew there was nothing wrong with the twins, they both knew how to walk, they were just going at their own pace. I wasn't concerned about them, I was mad because someone else's kid won the award for that milestone; in this particular instance, my kids were not the best. Ouch.
Perhaps the most difficult part of the comparison game is forcing yourself not to pit your kids against each other by comparing their every move. Having twins makes this especially challenging, and I work hard to just let it go. Jack and Nellie are very different, both in temperament and the way they learn and process new things. This was clear to us very early on. At first, when one hit a milestone, I would practically hold my breath till the other got there. But now I hardly ever compare the two. They've been eerily on the same schedule, but I guess it's actually not that eerie: they're pretty much on an average developmental schedule, hitting milestones at about the same time all other toddlers do. Oh yeah, and they're happy and healthy. Doesn't that count for something?
So the next time someone tells you that their child is very advanced (true story, ah tales from a Brooklyn playground), resist the urge to ram into them with your stroller. And when you hear "oh, Einstein didn't talk until he was four" don't respond with "but Milo down the street was saying his ABCs at eight months!!!" because it doesn't really matter. As my husband says, no one actually gets an award for winning at being a baby.
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